Before the Wake
by Kary Starr
Summary: I WON! I won this fanfiction challenge! This is it: a fanfiction-challenge that I took on and decided to post. I'm not pleased with it, but I like it well enough, so you might too...


Name: Before the Wake  
  
Author: Kary Starr  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; a lot of other important people do. I don't own Blythe, either; she's for a fanfiction contest (personally, that really is a bad name for a person; what a way to fuck up a kid…)  
  
The halls of the school were surprisingly dark for nearly midday; the rain clouds outside rumbling and rolling about with nothing but a dagger of light to see her way. The open doors of the dungeon classrooms with nothing but a sliver of window were of no help to her; if anything, it all seemed to enhance the fright she was trying to swallow down.  
  
"First class of Potions of the year and I'm lost…" Blythe Black said silently to no one, rounding another corner and seeing that the corridor was similar to the last one she had just passed. The dungeons of Hogwarts castle was more like a maze than anything else—eerie and dark, with slime on the cold brick walls creating an aura of spellbound horror. She was tired of searching for the classroom; wearied, and feeling quite a bit down, for now she knew that she was hopelessly and utterly lost in these dungeons.  
  
"'Spect I'll be the first seventh-year to die down here," Blythe said out loud with a sigh, as she slumped against the walls. Her brown leather bag slid down her black school robes and hung precariously in the knick of her elbow. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to remain calm. Someone was bound to come down this was soon; for Hogwarts was filled with ghosts, professors and students—and she was sure that her absence would be noticed before long.  
  
"What are you doing down here?" a cold voice said, breaking the silence like an icy wind. Blythe straightened herself up and readjusted her bag to her shoulder, and turned around, happy to see that anyone would be down here with her, even if this person sounded very annoyed.  
  
"I seem to have gotten lost," she said stoutly, standing up straight. The person who was now her somewhat reluctant companion was a boy; by the way he looked, he must have been a sixth- or seventh-year. He had his arms crossed in an irritated sort of way, and his straight black hair fell into his annoyed expression. Blythe noticed with curiosity that he carried no bags—certainly this would not be a place for a midday stroll?  
  
"Well then, this is no place for anyone," he said with maddening superiority. "I suppose you were looking for the Potions classroom? That is the only class you'd have business doing down here for." He shifted his stance, and looked down at her with extreme dislike.  
  
"That, and my Common Room," she replied quickly. Blythe paused for a moment, turning her head to the side, and down the barren corridor. Looking back, she finished, "Who are you, anyway?"  
  
"I am Severus Snape of Slytherin," he said with a tone of dominance. "And you are quite a ways from your Potions classroom, and even more still, from your Common Room. What House are you in, anyway?"  
  
Blythe blinked, her eyes shining quickly purple in the sudden flash of light from the outside. "I am also in Slytherin," she said curiously. "I haven't seen you in the Common Room."  
  
"I don't suppose you have; I rather dislike my Housemates," Severus replied snappishly.  
  
There was a very awkward pause. Blythe looked down at her feet, feeling quite foolish. She felt her ponytail of thick black hair surround her face and she knew she was blushing. She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks.  
  
"Come now, I suppose I'd feel simply terrible if I left you down here to rot," he said sarcastically, turning around. Severus walked forward quickly, and turned into first corner to the right. Blythe hurried to catch up with him, her fairly large black robes billowing out behind her.  
  
"I haven't told you my name," she said, catching up to him, matching his long stride; he was about three or four inches taller than she was. "It's Blythe—Blythe Black." They were now walking at a comfortable pace, as they passed the not-so-luminous dungeon classrooms.  
  
For a second, she thought his black eyes flashed. "No relation to Sirius Black, I hope," he said with a nasty undertone.  
  
"No…" she said; puzzled by what he meant. She did not recognize this corridor; she didn't recognize any she went down in the first place, however, she would have remembered them when she went back through them again. "Er—Severus," Blythe said, with a flushed feeling of awkwardness, "where are we anyway?"  
  
"We are heading to your Potions classroom," he snapped.  
  
"Oh," she said quietly. "Right."  
  
Severus stopped for a second, and looked at her. He had a vague expression on his face, like he was trying to figure out some sort of a puzzle. Blythe tried to decipher it; however, he turned and continued forward before she could register his expression.  
  
Curious… she thought. Trying to take another brave stab at conversation (she didn't quite always realize there was a time for silence and a time for not. She was a happy girl who loved to talk and someone to talk to, however annoyed or irritated he might be), she asked, "Are you a seventh- year, then?"  
  
Severus nodded curtly.  
  
She breathed in, trying to keep up the small talk. "So am I. Transferred from Durmstrang, you know. That place was far too Dark Arts oriented for my father's liking, so he moved me to here. He has fond memories of this place, but I don't know why I couldn't have gone here before…" she trailed off for a second, feeling foolish for telling her life story like this. "I've heard some about you, you know," Blythe said, changing the subject quickly, and looking inside a passing classroom (which, remarkably, looked like every other classroom down that hall). "They say you know more curses than some seventh-years your first year here. Is that true?"  
  
He scowled. "I wouldn't know how much the seventh-years did know then. And who's learning," he added, looking a bit miffed. "However, I do know a considerable amount of advanced magic." Blythe noticed he was quite proud of this, too, judging by the way that he held himself when he talked about that. She felt like an idiot, for insulting his hobby. Blythe hoped he wouldn't notice.  
  
"Yes, of course then," she said, a bit surprised he'd offer himself up as an advanced magic student so quickly; advanced magic generally meant Dark Arts, and however much it was a growing trend, was also somewhat forbid and a taboo in the school to know too much. She shifted her bag, trying to figure out what to say next to cover their long trip of solemn silence.  
  
"I say," she said, "how far along was I, exactly?" Blythe's legs were quite tired by now.  
  
"You were pretty far in," he answered simply. "I very much doubt you'd have gotten out if I hadn't been down there." He paused, and said thoughtfully, "How exactly did you wander down so far?"  
  
She blushed. "I was walking…and then I saw this…" she stopped. Should she tell Severus why she was down so far? It seemed so trivial now, but back then, it made her heart race and her mind panicky…  
  
"This what?" he prompted, taking another left.  
  
Blythe didn't want to tell Severus why she chose to go down deep, into the dungeons, and end up lost. It harbored a lot of lost memories—ones that she never got to have. She took a deep breath.  
  
"Well?" he said impatiently, stopping. "What made you wander down here so far so that I have to come out of my way to find you?" His expression was mixed anger and annoyance, yet she saw flickers of concern in his eyes.  
  
"My…mum died down here," she said. "She was a professor, a Potions teacher. There was a freak accident that happened down there, and everything was all hushed up, and this part of the castle was a bit frightening to come down to now, after three people were killed in this accident." She paused, folding her hands. "I thought I could have a look at my mum. They say she's…a ghost, down here. That's why no one comes down here; it's haunted." Blythe looked up and saw the most odd expression on his face.  
  
"Well then," he said, straightening up. "I've been down here countless times and have yet to see either three ghosts you've talked about. I doubt she's down here."  
  
"I hoped she'd be," she said softly. "I never got to meet her, you know, and remember. I was very, very young when she died." Blythe felt her cheeks creep into another shade of magenta, and the thunder rolled outside.  
  
"Hmm," was all Severus said, "right then, I apologize for asking." He sounded a bit awkward.  
  
"What have you got to be sorry about?" she said angrily. "You certainly couldn't understand anything to be sorry about."  
  
Severus's eyes flashed, but he didn't say anything. They walked about twenty more feet in silence, and then he stopped. "Here you go," he snapped, stretching out his hand to show her the room. "Your Potions classroom."  
  
"Thank you," she replied sharply, and steeped inside the semi-full room; she'd made it on time. "Aren't you coming in?"  
  
"No, I don't take basic Potions anymore," he said, almost quietly. "See you around." Obviously, Blythe realized taking her seat, Severus understood more than she thought.  
  
  
  
  
  
After many months had passed, Blythe still didn't feel much like home in the Slytherin House. She didn't really have any friends, except Severus, who was the only one nice to her. They met sometimes, in the library, to research together and talk.  
  
She found out a lot about him; he was the sole heir to the Snape family, who was not only wealthy, but very integrated in the Ministry of Magic. Blythe felt that they were very much alike, in some ways; they both were loners. Severus complained about the other Housemates very seldom, but when he did, he had a lot of information to offer.  
  
Blythe found out through him that for the last seven years of Severus's life here at Hogwarts was invaded by Malfoy and his crew; Blythe couldn't remember too many of the names, and they seemed to go on and on. They pressured and pulled him into becoming what was known as a Death Eater, and to a certain extent, Blythe couldn't understand what they meant by that, but supposedly, it was a bad thing to be (by Severus's standards, anyway).  
  
So, as the first two months passed, they grew closer. Blythe had to ignore all the taunt of the terrible Gryffindors and endue the teacher's indiscretions. Not to mention the rest of the Slytherins, who besides Severus, had a very large egotistical problem. Especially that Malfoy, who every time he looked at her, Blythe had this unrestrained feeling of fright. When she told Severus this, he had smiled and laughed. Apparently, lots of other people were the same.  
  
She entered the Common Room late one night, after taking a throughout tour of the school alone. The only thing about this House that upset her most was she was practically the only girl in her year. Mostly, men dominated the House she was in. The younger years had only four girls, but she felt awkward talking to them. All in all, except for Severus, Blythe really wished she hadn't have come here. She should have badgered her father into letting her stay for this year, too.  
  
Not many people were sitting in the Common Room, even for eleven o'clock, which was far after curfew (despite that, there could always be people found lurking late in the Common Room). The fire in the hearth crackled quietly and she found only one person sitting on the green upright chair, glancing into the fire like he was mesmerized. Blythe found she liked the faint light and the fact that it bounced off the stone hedges quite nicely, illuminating the little trinkets on the stone shelving, and creating a shimmer on the green silk curtains.  
  
Blythe walked over to the couch, which was positioned right in front of the fire, and sat down, placing her bag at her feet. She took a closer look at the other person, and saw it was Severus, hunched over and resting his chin in his hands. He looked very, very sad.  
  
"Hello, Severus," she said softly, not to startle him. "Anything the matter?"  
  
"No," he said quickly, looking up at her. His black eyes were unusually dark, and his hair hung in his pale face. Severus looked absolutely miserable.  
  
"You sure?" she said, shifting down the couch nearest his chair, which were positioned around the hearth in a semi-circle. "You look really upset." Blythe felt something, like empathy, or something more, as she sat there prying at Severus's feelings. Blythe also knew he was lying.  
  
"Do I?" he asked sullenly, and suddenly he looked very tired. Cracking a small smile, he said, "Well, I suppose I must do." Severus turned away and looked back at the fire.  
  
"Why?" she inquired, leaning a bit off the edge of the couch. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Malfoy," he said, almost at once. "Blythe, has be bothered you about this Death Eater thing yet?" Severus asked, and turned to her.  
  
"No, not yet," she said. "Why? Has he gotten to you again?" Blythe knew most of what Severus had to go through when it came to Malfoy. Turning her head sideways, she prodded his arm. "So?"  
  
"Not him specifically…" he said, trailing off. "His father."  
  
"What about his father?" Blythe replied. Then she understood, her violet eyes growing wide. "Oh my God. Severus…" she said, understanding what he had meant. "He made Lucius do it, didn't he?" They were talking about the rite to become a Death Eater; it seemed apparent Malfoy had gone through with it.  
  
"I can't believe it…"  
  
Severus nodded. "He's been completely unbearable. Now he's saying that his father is convincing mine. What a stupid boy," he said, in almost a whisper.  
  
"I know," she said quietly. "This is the reason my father wanted me out of Durmstrang." Blythe realized that if it weren't for her father, the chances of her being exactly like Malfoy would be pretty good. "So the question is, what are we going to do about it?"  
  
Severus looked at her. "No, Blythe. What am I going to do about it. You aren't going to get involved." His countenance had a hard expression.  
  
"What?" she cried. "Severus, you can't do this alone! You have to be—" she said, and then her mouth was muffled by his hand.  
  
"Shh-hh," he said sharply. "It's late. You can't possibly get involved in this." He moved his hand away, and she sputtered.  
  
"Come on, you know you can't…" and Blythe stopped after seeing the look Severus gave her. "Fine," she said, crossing her arms. "Be a prat."  
  
Suddenly, they heard a loud noise from upstairs, and the both of them turned their heads to look upstairs. Malfoy was standing on the top of the stairs, leaning over the railing. "What have we got here?" he said silkily.  
  
"Nothing, Lucius," Severus said quickly. "Did we wake you up?" He didn't seem to care if he did, Blythe noticed. Severus could never be mean to Malfoy; Severus said that he'd known him for a long time and the politeness was simply respect. Blythe didn't believe him for one moment. It was because Severus couldn't deal otherwise with him.  
  
Malfoy walked down the stairs, his pale hand trailing the wood railing. "What are we doing down here so late?"  
  
"How late is it?" he replied. Severus pivoted in his chair to see Malfoy walk across the hardwood floor, his black robes billowing out behind him. He stepped in front of the hearth and in front of them. Blythe moved back into the couch, and away from Severus. Severus, however, stood.  
  
Blythe looked back from one boy and the other, and stood herself. Turning to Severus, she said, "It's nearly eleven o'clock, Severus." Malfoy shot her a look.  
  
"I've found out something very interesting about you," he said mysteriously, moving near her, and putting an arm around her shoulders. Blythe shifted uncomfortably, and tried to move away. However, she stopped when Severus gave her a pleading look not to piss him off. Instantly, Blythe stopped moving. She tried not to cringe when he squeezed her shoulders and laughed.  
  
Then, he moved his arm and shoved her away, causing her to go sprawling on the floor with a loud thud. "I know what you are," he spat. Severus moved to block Blythe from Malfoy's view, but was stopped by Malfoy's arm jabbing out, stopping Severus. "You are a filthy Mudblood. The quality of Slytherin has been fouled." Severus bent down under Malfoy and went to Blythe, helping her up.  
  
"Stop it right now, Lucius," Severus said. "You haven't any right to hurt her like this." He stood slightly in front of Blythe. She, on the other hand, was rubbing her elbow and glaring at Malfoy.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she said loudly. "I am not a Muggle-born!" Blythe started to walk over to him, but Severus stopped her, silently telling her to stop where she was.  
  
"My father told me you were," he said quietly. "Are you saying my father is a liar?"  
  
"No, I'm saying he's got his information mixed up. I wouldn't have been able to go to Durmstrang if I were bloody Muggle-born!" she replied angrily. "How the hell did you come up with that one?"  
  
Malfoy's expression flickered. Then he smiled. "You certainly almost had me convinced…" he said. "You're a very good prevaricator, Miss Black. And, do you know why you were suddenly uplifted from Durmstrang?"  
  
Blythe remained silent, still glaring, her violet eyes narrowed. Severus held out his hand to Malfoy. "Lucius, enough of this. It's late, and you obviously haven't had enough sleep. Leave her alone."  
  
"No," he said sharply. "I'm curious on how she came to the conclusion why she got moved from Durmstrang." He moved closed to them, and Severus stepped in front of Malfoy.  
  
"Out of my way, Severus," he said, using the back of his hand to move Severus. "I don't want you hurt." Blythe saw Malfoy shove Severus out of the way, causing him to stumble onto the couch. She noticed too late that he was advancing on her, she moved back, tripping into the chair opposite the one Severus was sitting in earlier.  
  
"Malfoy, what are you doing?" she said quickly, trying to stand, but being shoved back into her chair by his hand on her shoulder, pushing her down.  
  
"I just want to let you know that if your father chooses to threaten my father anymore, you will pay the repartitions." He leaned into her chair further. "I hope you realize what position your caring, single parent father has put you in."  
  
Blythe's eyes grew wide. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Oh, don't you know?" Malfoy said, in a voice of maddening superiority. "Your father is an Auror, for the Ministry of Magic. And because of this, your father is threatening my dad about killing mindless Muggles."  
  
"How can she be Muggle born if her father is a wizard, Lucius?" Severus said from the side, finally standing behind him.  
  
"Easy—her father is a Muggle himself. Her mother is a Muggle-born witch. Hence, she is a—"  
  
"Pureblood," she interrupted, shoving him forward and standing. "Two wizards who have a child make a pureblood."  
  
Malfoy looked as he'd been slapped. "Don't interrupt me, Black. Yes, they may have been lucky enough to be wizards, but the line of heritage winds, and they are far from real wizards, as I ever knew. They were Muggles, your parents, and therefore you are a Mudblood."  
  
"How dare you say something so shallow?" Blythe said angrily. "How dare you?"  
  
"Easy, I just do," he said pompously. "Now, like I said, tomorrow you are going to owl your father and tell him to stay away from my dad—or else."  
  
"Or else what?" Severus snapped. "What are you going to do, right under Dumbledore's nose?"  
  
Malfoy looked at Severus with an angry look of murder. "Stay out of this, Severus. I don't have a quarrel with you. Or is it, that you feel something for this pathetic little Mudblood?"  
  
Severus's pale cheeks were becoming a pinkish color. "Don't even, Lucius…"  
  
"Do what?" he said maliciously. Turning to Blythe, he said, "Didn't you know, Black? Dear old pal of mine Severus has something of a crush on you."  
  
"Stop it, Lucius. I don't," he said, trying to sound convincing. "She's just my friend."  
  
Malfoy snorted. "Sure, Severus, sure. And I've only known you for how long…?"  
  
Severus's eyes widened, like he just realized something. "Lucius, there's something more here, isn't there?"  
  
He turned his head sharply to Severus, glaring at him. "What else could there be?" Malfoy stepped back, away from Blythe. He crossed his arms angrily.  
  
Severus moved over to Blythe, touching her arm reassuringly, and asked, "Are you all right?" She nodded, looking at him with a new expression. Was Malfoy right? Does Severus have something of a crush on me? It's not like he's been around so many other girls, she thought.  
  
Severus looked at Malfoy. "You don't have any other business down here, Lucius. Unless you've got something to say to either one of us, I must ask you to leave."  
  
Glaring at them with extreme hatred, Malfoy turned around suddenly and walked away. "Don't forget to owl your father, Black. The consequences of your actions weight heavily on your father."  
  
Blythe clenched her fist. "You bastard," she said under her breath. "How dare you threaten me and my family?"  
  
Severus watched him leave, up the stairs and into the dormitories. "Blythe, you've got to learn to control your temper around him. He's got connections like nothing I've ever seen. If he says your father is threatening his, then it's true." He paused. "If he threatens your life, he means it, too."  
  
Blythe wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "I can't believe he needs his daddy to fight his wars. What a wuss."  
  
Severus tried to cover a laugh. He turned and sat down, his hand over his mouth while he snickered.  
  
She looked down at him. "You think that's funny, eh?" she said, smiling, putting her hand on her hips. He tried to look innocent.  
  
"Absolutely not," he said, trying to keep a straight face. She laughed, and sat down on the other side of the couch, searching through her bag to pickup a book.  
  
Leaning down she said, "You want anything from in here? I've got…oh yeah, I remember now…" she said, breaking off. She pulled out a musty old book. "I went down the library after dinner, and saw this book in the Restricted Section. Of course, me being me, I just had to get it for you…" she handed him the book, Moste Potente Potions.  
  
"How?" he sputtered, taking the book graciously. "I've been trying to get this book for a while now!"  
  
"The Summoning Spell when Madame Pince wasn't looking…" she said, with a devilish smile.  
  
"You're a weird one, you know that?" Severus said, leaning back into the couch's green plush cushions.  
  
"Yeah, I know," she said, pulling out her Transfiguration book. "I'm the best."  
  
He snorted, opening the book. "Sure, Blythe, sure…"  
  
Smiling, she shook her head and flipped to page four hundred eleven, and started to read about The Different Ways to Apply Non-Matter into Matter.  
  
She read a couple of pages, and then glanced over at Severus. His gaze was intent in the book, seemingly fascinated with every new paragraph he read. She studied his face for a moment, absorbing his facial look. He was kind of attractive, in his own way…she watched his dark eyes flicker across the page. He was the only person here to actually befriend her, in such a way that made her feel appreciated. He didn't care she was Muggle-born (even if that was true…), and he certainly did care about what Malfoy did to her.  
  
Severus looked up suddenly, to see Blythe kind of staring at him. "Something you need?"  
  
Blythe blinked and said, "What? Oh, no, never mind." She felt her cheeks flush.  
  
Severus smiled wryly. "What is it, Blythe? Why are you blushing?" He had a pretty good guess, but that didn't stop him from asking. It would be flattering to him if she liked him the way he liked her. But, inevitably, he knew it wasn't—no, couldn't—be true.  
  
"Oh am I?" she said dryly. "Say, is what Malfoy said true?"  
  
"What do you mean? That you're Muggle-born? Maybe…"  
  
"No, I'm talking about you liking me," she said simply, her face flushing even more.  
  
Severus's face felt hot. "Why do you ask?"  
  
She closed her book, and set it on the floor. She didn't reply, but looked down on the ground awkwardly.  
  
"Blythe?" Severus said quietly. "I guess it's true. I don't know how Malfoy knew—maybe he's jealous or something, seeing as you are the only girl in Slytherin who hasn't fallen for him—but I guess I do…" he said quickly.  
  
Blythe looked up slowly. Her eyes were all full of tears.  
  
"What's the matter" he said, moving closer to her. "What happened?"  
  
"Nothing…" she said, smiling a bit. "I suppose this took me as a surprise. I hadn't really noticed until Malfoy said something…it'd be surprising to know you're the first guy to like me, wouldn't it?"  
  
"Really?" he said incredulously. "First guy to like someone like you?" He reached out and touched her cheek, watching Blythe blush even more. Severus smiled, and pushed her hair out of her face.  
  
"Severus…" Blythe said, swallowing hard. "I don't want to do anything to hurt our friendship…you're the only close friend I've got…"  
  
Severus leaned in toward her face. "I don't think we'll ever have any problems with our relationship, Blythe. But I won't force you to do anything you aren't comfortable with."  
  
She smiled. "I'm okay with all of this…I just wanted to make sure…" she said softly, and reached for his hand, holding it tightly. "I mean…I don't want to jeopardize anything we've got…"  
  
"We won't," He said, kissing her on the cheek gently. Then he kissed her on the lips, softly and lightly. Blythe leaned into him, deepening the kiss.  
  
When they finally parted, Severus ran his hand down her cheek. Smiling, Blythe put her head into his chest. This, she thought happily, was a better ending to the day than ever.  
  
"I saw you downstairs last night, Severus…" Malfoy said with a sneer the next morning.  
  
"What did you see, Lucius?" Severus replied, fastening his robe.  
  
"You two, kissing."  
  
Severus smiled, remembering. "So?" he said, pulling out books from his trunk. "I've seen you kiss girls lots of times. It's not a crime, you know."  
  
Malfoy walked over to Severus and put his hand down on the book he was about to pick up. "Stay away from her, Severus."  
  
"I could say the same about you."  
  
"She's a Mudblood! And she's a no good person, either. Severus, she's got you right where she wants you…"  
  
"Where does she have me, Lucius?" Severus said sarcastically, cramming the last remaining books into his overstuffed bag.  
  
"To a point of this quarrel between us!" he said quickly. "It's in your best interest to cut her loose, now."  
  
Severus started to get a little bit angry. "Lucius, I have a feeling you're a bit jealous of Blythe and me. I've been with you countless times as you flirt and snog many girls, and the one time a girl actually likes me and not you, she's automatically marked as bad!"  
  
"That's not it exactly…"  
  
Severus swung his bag on his shoulder. "Not another word, Lucius. I still have some respect for you, so I'm not going to tell you off for butting in. However, I think that maybe you should overlook your petty jealousy and accept this."  
  
"Me, jealous? Of what? That…girl…you are with?"  
  
"Yes," Severus replied snappishly, walking over to the door and opening it. "Please, Lucius, just leave us alone, all right?"  
  
Malfoy frowned at him. "Whatever you say, Severus," he snarled under his breath, watching him leave. "Whatever you say…"  
  
  
  
  
  
Mid-morning came and went, and Severus didn't see Blythe at all. Usually he saw her at breakfast, but now it was lunchtime and she still wasn't to be found. Severus had a poor feeling in his stomach about her whereabouts; he hadn't seen Malfoy since their encounter this morning either.  
  
He went to the library after eating lunch quickly, hoping to find her there. He did, in fact, find her there, sitting at a table by herself. She was reading a book.  
  
Severus broke out into a relieved smile, and walked over to her. Pulling out the seat next to her, he said, "Hello, Blythe. Where were you all morning?"  
  
She turned to him, her eyes all full of tears. She was holding a piece of paper, which had a lot of writing on it.  
  
Severus's stomach sank. "Blythe…?"  
  
"It's was Malfoy…" she sniffled. "It was all him."  
  
"What happened?" he asked gently.  
  
She held out the paper, and after he took it, she put her head in her arms. Putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, he read the letter to himself.  
  
Dear Miss Blythe Black,  
  
We are sorry to inform you that one of our best Aurors, your father Mr. Calvin Black, has been killed in a Muggle raid. We do not know the offenders, but we have circumstantial evidence to believe that it was the work of the popular rising radical group following this mysterious Lord Voldemort. We understand that your mother has already passed, and when you return from your schooling at Hogwarts, your guardian will be your aunt, Ms. Penelope Black.  
  
Yours truly…  
  
"Oh my God, Blythe, " he said, softly, looking up from the paper. "I'm so sorry…"  
  
Her shoulders shook. "Severus, what am I going to do? My mum and my dad are gone…" She pushed her hands into her face, trying to stop the oncoming tears. "God, I hate that stupid aunt of mine…"  
  
Severus set the paper down on the table. He didn't know what to say to her. He knew who was responsible; it was so obvious he could practically see it—he knew why he hadn't seen Malfoy since earlier that morning. That little snitch had gone and owled his father, about Blythe. How could he have been so stupid?  
  
"Severus…" she said, putting her hand on his arm. "You know what? I can tell that look on your face. It's not your fault…" she sighed loudly, rubbing her eyes. "You talked to Malfoy this morning, didn't you?"  
  
"How did you know?" he replied gently.  
  
"He talked to be about it this morning," she answered. "Told me that if I didn't stay away from you, that the consequences would be dire. Then he said something about last night…" she paused. "What an asshole."  
  
"Yeah, I agree…" said Severus, looking up. He saw a blonde haired boy enter the library, and gasped.  
  
"What?" said Blythe, looking at him. She turned to look at where he was gazing at, and saw that Severus was looking at Malfoy. "Oh," she said, noticing him. "Severus, ignore him."  
  
Severus looked at her. She didn't get it: it was Malfoy who got her father killed. It pained him to know this and not be able to tell her, not without her flipping or worse, sinking into a depression. Her tear-dried face was titled up at him, and knowing that he should say something about this, he didn't.  
  
A loud slap brought their attention back. "What's this?" he sneered, pulling himself up a seat. "What is this?"  
  
"Nothing, Malfoy," she replied nastily. He only nodded, and picked up the parchment Severus had laid down. She tried to snatch it back, but he held it out from her reach. Malfoy, while holding it up in the air, read it out loud.  
  
"Dear Miss Blythe Black…" Malfoy looked up. "You have a really poor name, you know that, right?"  
  
Blythe looked murderous. She reached over to punch him, but Severus caught her hand before she could swing. He held it back, away from Malfoy, trying to get her to understand that it would do no good to provoke a fight; Malfoy was low enough to hit even girls.  
  
"We are sorry to inform you that one of our best Aurors, your father Mr. Calvin Black, has been killed in a Muggle raid," he paused. "Do you know what a Muggle raid is, Mudblood? I doubt you'd be the victim of one before you're through." Malfoy laughed, seeing her struggle to get out of Severus's grip. No doubt to kick my ass, he thought. He continued. "We do not know the offenders, but we have circumstantial evidence to believe that it was the work of the popular rising radical group following this mysterious Lord Voldemort." He sniggered. "I am a follower of Lord Voldemort, Mudblood. Why that practically says I did it." Malfoy looked at Severus, who he saw, fully understood what he meant. Apparently, so did Blythe.  
  
"You son of a bitch!" she said tersely, ripping her arms from Severus's grip. "You did that, didn't you?" She stood up, knocking her chair over, causing it to clatter on the floor. "You killed my father. You insensitive prick!"  
  
Right then, Madame Pince came over, her robes flowing behind her. "Quiet! This is a library!" she said shrilly. "Out! OUT!"  
  
Blythe glared at Malfoy then transferred her glare to Madame Pince. "Sure. I'm leaving. I'm going straight to Dumbledore."  
  
"What, you think that overgrown Muggle-lover's got any fight in him? My father says that—"  
  
"Your father, dear Malfoy," she spat, turning around, "is a robed fairy. Did you hear me? A fairy." She turned quickly and stormed out of the library, tears streaming down her face. Severus could only stare, watching her leave. Then he looked at Malfoy, and ran after Blythe.  
  
"Don't you dare insult my father!" he called after them, running. He caught up with Blythe before Severus did, and slammed her into the wall. Pulling out his wand, he held it at her head, right between her eyes.  
  
"Don't seem so big now, little girl…" he seethed.  
  
"You killed my father, you goddamn son of a bitch," she shrieked, pushed him back. He flew back, and hit the other wall with an audible thud. Blythe pushed her hands into his chest, pinning him up on the wall. "How the hell can you say, 'Don't insult my father', if you killed mine? Did you hear me? You killed mine and you have the balls to laugh about it?"  
  
Severus ran up to them, and pulled Blythe off of Malfoy. "Blythe, come on, you'll get into trouble…"  
  
"I don't give a rat's ass if I get into trouble for kicking this runt's spoiled ass…" she snarled, trying to get free of Severus once again. "Come on, Severus, let me go!"  
  
"I can't let you do that," he said, holding onto her tighter. "I can't let you sink to his level."  
  
Blythe stopped struggling almost as once. Her body went limp, and her shoulder's began to shake like she was crying. Severus looked at her, like she'd gone mad. Malfoy, on the other hand, stood up straight and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
She yanked her arms from him. "Severus, leave me alone. You couldn't possibly understand this…how I feel…" She looked up at him, turning around. She had her hands clutched at her chest. "Do you Severus? Do you?" Her cheeks were completely wet. It was all Severus could do not to hug her and keep her safe from harm.  
  
Instead, he looked up at Malfoy. "It was you, wasn't it?" he said angrily.  
  
Malfoy gave him a look of utmost supremacy. "If it were, there's nothing you can do about it. Let her go, Severus." He paused, turning at Blythe. "Look at her. She's torn our friendship apart."  
  
"We never had a friendship, Lucius," he spat. "I could never like an asshole like you. I never have. And it didn't take my friendship with Blythe to realize it, either." He reached over and looked down at Blythe. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.  
  
She looked at him. "No," she said, whipping around to look at Malfoy. "I don't know how you can be so bloody calm about this!" she screeched. "He killed my father!"  
  
"I didn't personally," he said, making a little bow to her. "You can thank my daddy for getting rid of that no good Mudblood. Like parents, like daughter. Except you're not dead…yet…"  
  
"How dare you threaten me!" yelled Blythe. Suddenly, she felt arms wrap around her from behind. "Let go Severus!"  
  
"Dumbledore is approaching," he said in her ear. "I didn't think that you wanted him to see you kill Malfoy with your wand." He pointed to the stick she held in her hand, which, without realizing it, she'd pulled out.  
  
"Oh…" she said sheepishly. "Never mind that." She shoved the wand in her robes, Severus, thinking she'd got the idea, let her go. She paused, and rested her arms. Then she raised her hands. "I'll kill him with my bare hands!"  
  
"No!" he cried, and just as Dumbledore approached them, she desisted.  
  
"Hello, Headmaster," she said. "Can we help you?" Blythe stepped back, and into Severus, who, held up his hands and put them on her shoulders reassuringly.  
  
"Yes," he said in a dire tone. "Mr. Malfoy, and Miss Black, please accompany me."  
  
Severus looked at Blythe, who looked like she's swallowed a large jar of Skele-gro. He glanced up. "Please, Headmaster, could I come?"  
  
Dumbledore looked up, his half moon spectacles shimmering in the midday sun. His blue eyes were sparkly, as if he had a secret to tell. "If you want to," he said solemnly, turning around, his robes billowing.  
  
Severus gazed at Blythe, who had put her hand on his. She looked scared. Severus smiled. "It's going to be okay," he said, squeezing her hand. She cracked a weak smile, and looked at Malfoy. He was looking at him with pure hatred.  
  
"God, that is so pathetic. Love-sick birds my ass," he said, stalking off. Blythe watched his retreating back and stuck out her tongue.  
  
"Prick," she said to his back, and walked with Severus to the Headmaster's office. The journey was quiet and desolate. Severus walked close to her, and she was thankful for this. She was so scared of what the Headmaster might say. She also hoped in the back of her mind that perhaps, they would know what happened from Malfoy.  
  
The gargoyle was already opened when they approached. Blythe looked at Severus, and took a step in. The winding staircase took them to the top, and there was Dumbledore and Malfoy. He looked tense, whilst Dumbledore was very sad.  
  
"Please, have a seat," he said. There was only one seat left open, and Severus offered Blythe the wooden chair, choosing to stand next to her instead. They looked at Dumbledore, expectantly.  
  
Blythe didn't even realize how organized and yet how magnificent Dumbledore's office was. There were piles of books and papers, and off to the corner were the hat that sorted her into Slytherin, and the phoenix that was showing off its gold and red plumage. Balances were here and there, and star tablets were attached to the walls. Pictures of previous Headmasters were looking in curiously, and Blythe felt really awkward; this was far from Durmstrang's office, and a lot less scarier.  
  
"I'm not going to dance around the subject," he said at once. "I have received word that your father has been killed by the recent rising group of Death Eaters. I have also received word on which person it was. However, the Ministry has chosen to disregard the information." There was a flicker of relief across Malfoy's face, and one of triumph. "And I don't want any quarreling; if the Ministry has chosen to disregard it, then I must was well."  
  
Blythe's mouth dropped. How could the Ministry do this, when her father worked for them?! She was hurt and offended, but she kept her silence.  
  
Severus's hand on her shoulder was now hurting. Blythe looked across and saw that Malfoy was sitting pretty. God, she wanted to punch him right now.  
  
"You are dismissed, and if another teacher has to bring another incident regarding this, you each will have detention," Dumbledore said sadly. "That is all, you may leave now."  
  
Blythe stood up angrily, and walked out of the room, Severus at her heels. "How could the Ministry do this?" she said. "My father worked for them!"  
  
"My father has connections," he whispered walking by them. "Ta, ta, Black!"  
  
Blythe clenched her fists, watching him walk off. He wasn't going to get away with this, if she had the last word about it.  
  
Blythe ran after Malfoy, who was down three corridors, Severus right behind her. "Blythe, don't do anything you'll regret!"  
  
"I won't…" she said quietly, pulling out her wand as she ran. She caught Malfoy up, and she whipped him around, so he could face her.  
  
"Fight, you spoiled prat!" she said, sticking her wand in his face.  
  
"Fine!" he said angrily. "My father taught me a little trick, I don't think you want me doing this…in fact, this is how he killed your dad."  
  
Severus rounded the corner. "Stop, Blythe!" He skidded to a halt to watch Malfoy's lips curl into a nasty smile.  
  
"Avada Kedavara!" he screamed, and Severus stood there, watching the green light emit from his wand, crumpling the life out of Blythe and causing her to fall to the ground.  
  
"NO!" he screeched, running over to her body before it hit the ground, catching it. He tried to shake her awake, but it just would not happen. She was dead.  
  
"I told her what would happen," he said softly. "You understand, don't you Severus? She can't stop us on our way to becoming great. Lord Voldemort would not have allowed her." He paused. "If I didn't kill her, Severus, you would have had to. Believe me, this was for your own good."  
  
This was for your own good, you good for nothing son of a bitch, Severus thought quickly, holding the limp body close. He felt extreme sadness; she was the only one who actually understood him.  
  
"Come on, Severus," he said, holding out her hand. "Your destiny awaits. You promised to join me."  
  
Severus looked up at him, still holding Blythe. Sure, he'd join. He'd join those goddamn Death Eaters. He'd get his revenge on Malfoy in the worst way—he would pay for all of this. They all would. 


End file.
